


Limited

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Series: Lavender_and_Vanilla Explains It All or Fanfiction Fixes Everything [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Angst, M/M, Sherlock Series 4 Spoilers, comforting lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 05:06:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9970727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: Mothers really know how to push your buttons.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Mummy Holmes made me really, really mad. Anyone else ticked off at her?

Mycroft stood by the door as his parents stalked out of his office. Sherlock trailed behind and stopped as he approached his brother. His blue eyes were filled with sympathy; melting the icy glare Mycroft had been giving him. 

“I’ll speak with them.”

Mycroft’s posture slumped minutely. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Sherlock started to leave, then paused again. “I have an idea,” he started hesitantly. Mycroft said nothing, but raised his eyebrows. His brother appeared lost in thought for a moment, “Yes… I’ll be in touch, bother-mine.” The endearment was spoken without sarcasm. Sherlock left to catch up with their parents and Mycroft shut the door, retreating to his desk. He leaned on his elbows pressing the heels of his hands to his face, willing himself not to weep. His mobile chimed.

* Is it over? How’d it go? –GL *

* Yes. Dreadful. –MH *

* I’m sorry. –GL *

* You were right. They did not see it as a kindness. –MH *

A moment later the mobile rang and Mycroft answered, “Yes, Gregory.”

“I’m so sorry, love. Do you want to talk about it?”

Mycroft sighed. ”Not particularly.”

Greg ignored Mycroft’s response. “It was your mum wasn’t it? I always knew she could be…”

“Still my mother.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you are correct. She can be…” Mycroft searched for words. “ … A bit much.”

Greg snorted. “Your da?”

“He was a little gentler, but equally unhappy with me,” Mycroft said quietly.

“Oh, love.”

“Sherlock tried to speak up for me, in a half-hearted way.” Mycroft reported with some wonder.

“Did he?” Greg sounded surprised.

“Yes. Of course his efforts were dismissed by Mummy, who then proceeded to ask Sherlock his opinion as to what to do moving forward, because, and I quote, ‘You’ve always been the grown up.’”

There was a moment of stunned silence, then Greg’s laughter roared over the line washing over Mycroft, rinsing away a good deal of his stress and sadness. “Barmy your mum is, love.” Greg was still chuckling and Mycroft found that a small smile had crept across his face. 

There was still something sticking in Mycroft’s craw. “That may be, but I shall defer to your judgment in the future regarding family matters. Your emotional intelligence is clearly much higher than mine.”

“What else did she say?” Greg asked gently.

Mycroft smiled ruefully. Greg just proved he was so much better at this business. “It’s nothing.”

“Nope. It’s not. Spill it.”

Mycroft sighed. “She said I was ‘very limited’.”

Greg was quiet, and then he spoke. “That’s not been my experience.” 

“You are the exception then that proves the rule,” Mycroft countered tiredly. 

“No, you’re only as good as the materials you’ve to work with.” Greg retorted.

Mycroft smiled. “Are you saying that you are ‘better’ material?” he teased. 

“The very best.” Greg replied with cheeky confidence. “What kind of material do you think your parents are if they think Sherlock has always been the grown up?” 

“You make an excellent point.” Mycroft was amused. He paused and then said very sincerely, “Thank you.”

“You can thank me when you get home tonight.” Greg’s tone had morphed into something more suggestive.

“Oh, did you have something in mind?” Mycroft played along.

“Yeah, I want to test your limits,” purred Greg.

“Gregory…” Mycroft felt a bit breathless. 

“Let’s see who breaks first.” Greg’s roughened voice had Mycroft swallowing hard. 

“Ah, yes… Let’s.”

“See you soon, love.” Greg ended the call and Mycroft found himself still sitting at his desk, but in a completely different frame of mine. 

FIN


End file.
